CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Penelope's POV

The scene is composed with a long dining table positioned centrally, stretching out beneath a covered walkway. Numerous high-backed, light beige chairs flank the table, elegantly arranged to accommodate many guests. The table is laden with elegant tableware and burning candles, creating a warm and inviting ambiance. The surrounding architecture is characterized by tall, white pillars supporting a grand structure, with a reflecting pool and a large estate behind the dining area. 

The chairs are luxurious with ornate carvings and gold accents. The table is richly appointed with a variety of dining ware. 

Julien and I were the first to arrive, and I took a seat beside him, smoothing my dress as I folded my hands neatly in my lap. He, of course, had barely looked up from his phone since we walked in. The soft sound of his fingers tapping against the screen filled the silence between us.

I didn't let it bother me. If anything, it gave me a moment to steel myself, to remind myself that I had to play my part effortlessly tonight. I couldn't afford any slip-ups.

The doors swung open, and I lifted my head just as the familiar face from earlier entered—the lady who had greeted me in the car park.

"Madison," she beamed, sliding into the chair across from me. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to chat with you properly tonight."

Her voice was light, friendly, her smile warm in a way that almost made me drop my guard. Almost.

I returned the expression, tilting my head slightly. "Olivia, hi?" Julien mentioned her name somewhere between our conversation on our way here. And, everybody else as well. I did well to have them pinned in my head. Should I forget any, I'd be on deep trouble.

Her eyes twinkled. "How are you feeling?"

"Great." I said, my lips spreading apart in a smoke.

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "I was actually just talking to a friend of mine earlier, and she is beyond excited about LauRiot launching soon."

The name caught me off guard, but I masked my surprise with a sip of water. Julien had mentioned it but now, it did seem the branch belonged to Madison and she was expected to launch it.

Olivia continued, oblivious to my sudden tension. "I still can't believe you pulled it off, Maddie. Everyone thought it was just an idea you threw around, but here it is, an actual brand about to take over the fashion world."

I felt my grip tighten around the glass.

LauRiot.

Madison's project.

I had always dreamed of becoming a fashion designer, of carving out a space for myself in that world. But Madison—Madison had done it instead. She had taken the dream I once held so close and turned it into her own reality. And now, I was supposed to be her.

I forced a smile. "It… it feels surreal," I said, keeping my tone casual. "I didn't expect things to move this fast."

Olivia laughed, waving a hand. "Oh, come on. You always knew it would be a success. You have the best eye for fashion."

I nodded along, keeping up the act. I had to. Miss Marie-Anne's instructions had been clear—be chatty, be engaging, make them believe I was Madison.

"So tell me," I said smoothly, "what's the buzz been like? Are people excited?"

Olivia's grin widened. "Excited? Madison, they're obsessed. Everyone's dying to see the first collection. My friend even joked about selling her soul to get a preview." She chuckled. "She swears LauRiot will be the next big thing."

I let out a light laugh, playing along. "That's the plan."

Olivia nodded approvingly. "You're going to be legendary, Maddie."

Before I could respond, another voice cut in.

"Good lord, Olivia, you never stop talking, do you?"

I turned toward the source of the interruption.

A woman, tall and slender, with perfectly styled brown waves, had entered the room. She looked to be in her late forties, her sharp eyes scanning Olivia with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

With the research I had done earlier, she should be Casey.

Unlike Olivia, Casey didn't acknowledge me.

Not with a greeting, not with a glance.

I wasn't surprised.

Another woman followed close behind her. Also tall and slender, but with striking brown skin and an even sharper jawline. She looked to be in her early thirties, and unlike the first woman, she met my gaze as she sat down.

She was the third person to appear when I googled Laurent's family, and she went by Sabrina.

She didn't smile.

Instead, she tilted her head, studying me with something that felt almost… assessing.

Then, she spoke.

"How convenient that you suddenly fell ill just days before the LauRiot launch."

I stiffened.

Julien, who had been silent all this time, finally looked up from his phone. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was anything but indifferent.

"Never thought you'd show your face in public for another year." He dragged out lazily.

"And, why not? A two-weeks break for a minor scandal should be enough." Sabrina responded, pursing her red-painted lips.

"Oh, of course. Minor, as you said. No big deal, just your husband's weekly sleepover with 200 friends... what's not to trust?" Julien shot back sarcastically.

Wait, 200? I had seen in the news that her husband, Ian Laurent, creative director of Boho Luxe Jewellery, had a cheating scandal, but it had been with 200 women??

Sabrina's eyes flared with fury. "That is not true."

Julien smirked. "Oh, certainly not."

She bristled. "I believe you need to start minding your business and face your cunning wife."

Julien raised a brow at her.

"Or, do you want me to reveal to everyone on this table how your wife got you to go down on one knees for her, proposing marriage?"

The room stilled, including me. Julien's gaze darkened.

"You say another word, and I might wring your neck to death."

My breath caught, expecting others to mirror my shock, but they merely averted their gazes as if the scene was hurtful to their eyes.

Even Sabrina that had been confident with her comebacks had sealed her lips shut and sat straight as if Julien had meant those words.

Had he? 

Why would someone casually threaten murder and nobody was moved? Not even the person he had threatened murder to? 

And, what was that about how Madison got Julien to marry her?

I didn't have time to dwell on it, though, because at that moment, another figure burst into the room.

A young woman with fiery red hair, looking no older than nineteen, darted in, her breath uneven as if she had been running.

She barely spared a glance at the others before locking eyes with me.

"Have you been told?" she blurted.

I blinked. "Told what?"

Her gaze flickered with urgency. "My friend just called me. She saw a poster."

"A poster?" I echoed, my stomach twisting.

The girl swallowed hard.

"A missing poster," she clarified. "With your sister's face on it."

The room fell silent.

Everything stilled.

Even Julien, who had been so effortlessly composed all evening, went rigid beside me.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as she showed me the poster of a missing poster.

Of Penelope.

Of me.

My breath caught in my throat.

And just like that, the fragile illusion I had spent all night maintaining—maybe even longer than that—began to crack.